


To the Stars {Titanic Hamliza AU}

by Itsemzee



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27526990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itsemzee/pseuds/Itsemzee
Summary: In history's most famous shipwreck, Alexander and Eliza meet in the most unexpected of circumstances. A poor boy, rich in happiness, and a rich girl, poor in life and laughter, they fall in love, doomed to suffer the consequences of the sinking of the RMS Titanic.*A Hamliza AU based on Jack and Rose's story *
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton & Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This same story is published on Hamino and Wattpad

April 10th, 1912

11:25am

Southampton Harbor, England

The unsinkable ship sat in the Southampton Harbor. All around, people young and old, rich and poor, stood waving to the passengers on the Titanic. Third class passengers stood in line, awaiting to be checked for lice. A car horn blared through the cool April air and the waving crowd split, letting through multiple regal looking cars. The shiny, metallic vehicles halted on the pavement as the driver hopped down from the sleek leather seat and traveled to the passenger door, opening it from the golden handle. A delicate gloved hand reached out and the man took it, helping the woman from the car.

"Thank you," she dismissed. The girl's black eyes peered out from under the marvelous plume atop her hat as the salty seawater air stung her nose. She gazed up, unimpressed, at the vessel that docked in the harbor before her. "I don't see what all the fuss is about," she sighed. "It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauretania."

From behind her came John Andre, her fiancé and the heir to a Pittsburg steel tycoon. Wrapping his hand around her waist and pointing his walking stick at the Titanic, he said, "Eliza, my dear, you can be offhand about every other thing in this world, but not the Titanic." He gave a weak smile towards her. "This ship is unsinkable! And it is far more luxurious than the Mauretania."

Eliza took a step forward to take a better look. It doesn't look like much, she thought. Just another ocean liner taking me back to America in chains. It's no different than the last time.

—————

Alexander tensed up as his tongue fiddled with the cigarette in between his teeth. He eyed his opponent next to him as they blindly exchanged a card between each other. Though his stomach fluttered in excitement, his face stayed indifferent. He had every card he needed to win, but there was still a chance—albeit a low chance—someone could beat him.

He eyed the pile of winnings on the table. In the center of the money pile were two third-class White Star Line tickets to the ship that sat outside. If he won, he'd get to go home. He'd get to be free once again in Wisconsin.

Next to him, his friend John Laurens heaved a sigh. "Alexander why would you do this?" The man's face became more flushed in anger. "You bet everything we have! I'll never get to—"

"—Hey," Alexander interrupted, leaning in close. "If you got nothin', you got nothin' to lose." He took another puff of his dying cigarette and tossed it into ash tray next to him. When John had calmed down, his pale face no longer bright red, Alexander sighed and tapped his cards on the table. "Alright, the moment of truth. Let's see what you got John."

John showed his cards. Nothing.

"Thomas?" Alexander eyed the man to the left of John, awaiting a response.

Thomas showed his cards. Nothing.

Alexander looked to the small man next to Thomas. "James?"

James wore a smug look as he placed down his cards revealing he had a two pair. Alexander clicked his tongue. "Wow, James,"—he looked to John now—"I'm sorry John." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

"Wha'd'you mean you're sorry?" John shouted. "Son of a—I'll never get to see my family!"

Alexander stood up, and put an arm around John's shoulders. "Listen, you're gonna see your family again," he poked his friend in the center of his chest and stood up, a burst of energy and laughter filling the room as Alexander exclaimed, "'Cause we're goin' to America! Full house, boys!"

Bar goers groaned and cheered as some handed money to gamblers.

He slapped his cards on the table revealing three 6's and two Kings. In front of him, Thomas glared. When Alexander reached for the pile of money, Thomas stood up and towered over him, taking him by the collar of his tattered brown button up. His fist raised to Alexander's face and he cringed, expecting the punch. But instead, Thomas threw the punch square into James's nose.

Alexander laughed and shoveled their winnings into his rucksack as his two opponents fought on the floor. He then picked up the tickets, kissing them and laughing happily. "We're goin' home, John! We're goin' back to America!"

"I wouldn't be too sure lads," a bartender spoke up. He pointed to the clock behind him. "Your ship leaves in five minutes."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: MENTIONS AND ATTEMPT OF SUICIDE

Alexander and John ran through the waving crowd. "Come on!" Alexander shouted back. "I thought you were fast!"

"Haha," John mocked. They ran faster, almost knocking over a gentleman and running into a set of horses.

The two men found themselves at the docking bay, the walkways being removed. Behind them, they could hear a clock tower chiming noon. "Wait! Wait!" Alexander called as he ran onto the walkway. "We're passengers." He pulled out the third-class tickets from his pocket and presented them to the crew member.

The man pursed his lips. "Did you go through the health inspection?"

"Yes, of course," Alexander said. "Besides, we're Americans, we don't have any lice."

"Right, go on," the worker said, moving aside to let them in.

Alexander and John jumped onto the third-class section of the ship. They continued running, seeking the quest to find their room. "We're the luckiest people on the whole damn planet!" Alexander looked back to John. He slowed down after almost bumping into a woman and trailed along the wall. "G-60...G-60..." he mumbled to himself. "Aha!"

They burst into the room, scaring their cabinmates half to death. Alexander smiled at the two men. "Alexander Hamilton,"—he shook their hands—"how are ya?"

The men smiled back, but looked at each other with confusion. These weren't their cabinmates, were they?

John threw his bags onto the top bunk. "Who says you get top bunk?" Alexander laughed as he playfully punched John in the arm.

The two ventured up to the bow, sunlight spilling onto Alexander's red locks. They squinted through the light as they pushed past the crowd of people waving to the docks below. "Goodbye!" Alexander shouted happily. "We'll miss you!"

John put his hand down and looked at Alexander. "Do you know someone?"

"'Course not!" Alexander scoffed. "But everyone's doing it! We're making history, John!"

—————

Eliza stared blankly at the cream colored tablecloth before her. Her whole life was in front of her, but what was the point? It was endless parties, cotillions, and polo matches. The same narrow minded people, and same mindless chatter. It was as if she was standing on a table, screaming her lungs out and still, no one was noticing. She was suffering in silence, and she wanted to end it.

"Will you please excuse me?" she said to the table. No one responded. They all continued with their witty banter and talk about their personal finances, prompting her to get up. Again, no one payed her any attention, so she turned and left.

Eliza wandered back to her suite. Inside, she gazed at her vanity mirror. She was beautiful, yes, her dark eyes were like gaping holes against her fair skin. To her mother, she wasn't pretty enough.

She was tired. More than tired. She was exhausted beyond belief, faking smiles and warm greetings day in, day out. She was sick of the suffocating corsets she had to wear from sun up to sun down; tired of the dresses, the petticoats, the heels, and the inability to breath. She wanted to speak her mind, but was told she didn't know any better than a dog. All she wanted to do was to go to sleep and never wake again.

"Trudy!" she called. No reply. "Trudy!" Still no reply. A swell of emotion grew in her throat. Tears began to prick her eyes, and her head began throbbing. She ripped pins from her dark hair, throwing them down on the mahogany table. The nut-brown curls spilled over her shoulders as the tension on her scalp was released. "Trudy!" she called again, louder this time. She tried to take a deep breath in but failed.

"This damned thing!" she murmured. Her breathing became rapid as she frantically reached around her back to untie her dress. The lump in her throat grew bigger and tears spilled onto her flushed cheeks as her fingers struggled to untie the laces. A cry of agony escaped her lips as she shouted, "Trudy!"

Eliza looked back at herself in the mirror. She was trapped. What was the point anymore? What was the point of struggling? Of breaking down into tears when no one was around? It wasn't going to get better. Why not just stop altogether?

Not bothering to wipe the tears, she ran from her room. More tears fell from her lashes as she felt the cold air on the Sundeck hit her exposed skin. She took a shallow breath in, feeling the cold air slice her lungs. Eliza continued running, pushing past a gentleman and his wife, not bothering to apologize.

She stopped abruptly at the bow of the ship, staring out at the inky abyss before her. Turning her head, she surveyed the deck. There was no one around. No one could stop her. She could escape her endless life of misery and finally be free.

Eliza took a step forward, approaching the white rail.

I'll be free, she thought.

Another step.

No one able to tell me who and what to be. No more pain, no more suffering.

Two more steps.

I'm so close.

Just one more step and—

She reached out her hands and grabbed the railing. It felt like ice. As she climbed the metal bars, she couldn't help but take note of her surroundings. How cold the night air was; she could see the puffs of breath coming from her mouth. How quiet the atmosphere was; the only noise she could hear was the water breaking under the ship. She closed her eyes and climbed over. One slip and it'll be over and done with.

Just one more—

"Don't do it."

Eliza turned around quickly. "Go away. Leave me alone."

"Come on," the boy said, taking a step forward and stuck out his hand. "Give me your hand. I'll pull you over."

"Don't come any closer," Eliza warned. "I'll let—I'll let go."

"No you won't," the boy remarked.

Eliza raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me? Who are you, so wise, as to tell me what I will and will not do?"

The boy backed off slightly, putting his hands up in defense. "I'm just saying...If you wanted to let go, you would've done it already."

"You don't know me," Eliza scoffed. "Besides...you're distracting me. Now, go away."

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I can't go away."

"Yes you can," Eliza rolled her eyes. "Go!"

"No," the boy responded. "I'm involved now. If you let go, I'll have to jump after you."

Eliza watched as he stripped his jacket and untied his shoes. She shook her head, clearing whatever thoughts were there. "You're being ridiculous! The fall alone would kill you!"

"It would hurt, I won't lie," the boy agreed. "But I'm most concerned about the water being so cold."

"How—how cold?" Eliza's face softened.

"Freezing, a couple degrees below." The boy looked at Eliza. He noted her elegant clothing; the beads hanging from her long neck glinted in the light from the lanterns.

What could have caused a girl of first class to want to jump from a ship?

"When I was a kid," the boy continued, "I was in Wisconsin with my dad. We were skating and I fell through a thin patch of ice." He looked right into Eliza's black eyes. "Water that cold...it's like a thousand knives slicing at your body. You can't move, you can't think about anything but that cold water...Which is why I'm not really lookin' forward to jumping after you..."

"You're crazy," Eliza accused.

"Well,"—the boy stepped closer—"with all due respect, I'm not hanging off the back of a ship."

Eliza looked around. There was no one in sight but the two of them. If she climbed back over, there wouldn't be a scene. No one would know.

"Come on. You don't want to do this. Give me your hand," the boy whispered, concern in his voice.

She took a breath and turned around. The boy in front of her stepped over. They were face to face now. Eliza stared into his eyes. They were blue with tinges of violet. His hair was like fire against the night sky.

"Alexander Hamilton," the boy said.

"Elizabeth Schuyler," she responded. "But everyone calls me Eliza."

Alexander smirked. "Well, I guess I'll call you something different to stand out from the rest." They we're so close they were breathing each other's air. "How about Betsey?"

Eliza chuckled.

"Come on," Alexander continued. "I'll pull you over. I got you."

Betsey took his hand in hers. Her breath was shaking as she began to climb the railing. She was so close. So close to being saved when her heart dropped as her shoe slipped on the hem of her dress.


End file.
